


The Locked-Room Cookie Mystery

by idola



Category: Densetsu no Yuusha no Densetsu | The Legend of the Legendary Heroes
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:29:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22726186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idola/pseuds/idola
Summary: Miran finds gift-wrapped cookies in his locked office on the day of love.
Relationships: Lucile Eris/Miran Froaude
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	The Locked-Room Cookie Mystery

**Author's Note:**

> happy miran lovemail day!
> 
> this is sort of based on the official artist's doujinshi about torti nah, a holiday in roland that's basically valentines day. eslina uses the chance to poison miran in an omake for it, which he totally deserved, but also if he'll eat her cookies... (thinking)

Against all odds, Miran seemed to like sweets.

Lucile couldn’t say so for certain, but at the very least… Miran did eat that girl’s cookies last year. Though he could be traumatized from the food poisoning and not accept anything this year because of it.

No matter. Lucile wasn’t planning on giving him anything, per say, so there was no way for Miran to refuse it. Refuse to eat it, sure, but he would have the cookies whether he wanted them or not.

Today was Torti Nah, an annual holiday in Roland where women were supposed to give sweets to men to show their love and appreciation. The most popular treats were cookie houses, which women traditionally put symbols of their affection inside. The more platonic presents were regular cookies, tarts, and the like. They weren’t _always_ platonic, though. They weren’t _always_ sent by women, either.

Lucile had never given or received cookies for this day. By the time Ferris learned that the holiday existed, she was already at the point where she was too scared to give him cookies. Iris never even considered it. But they gave each other cookies for the holiday every single year. He always looked forward to it.

This year they traded cookies bright and early. Ferris’ were dango-shaped every single year, and this year Iris’ were too. Ferris’ had been so happy.

Maybe it was the sight of Ferris being happy that made Lucile want to try giving them to someone, too. Giving them to Ferris herself was out. He’d just scare her. The same went for Iris. Sion didn’t deserve cookies. Also, he already got way too many. That left Miran Froaude.

Have they spoken before? No, never. Did it matter? No, probably not.

How hard could it be? He’d buy some cookies - Croseli could find something good in the markets - and then he’d place them in Miran’s office. He could do that part himself.

Croseli came to his summoning with a sullen expression and bowed deeply. He probably thought he was going to be scolded. Well, that was usually true.

Lucile smiled at him in an attempt to be approachable. “Croseli, could you go into town today? There’s something I’d like…”

If Croseli wanted to tell Lucile to get it himself, which was likely, he didn’t let it show on his face. “What would like, my lord duke?”

“Cookies. Gift wrapped, naturally.”

“…Would you like me to include a note with the cookies?” Croseli asked. His tone had changed. He was relieved now, and almost happy.

He was misunderstanding something. Lucile shook his head. “They aren’t for Ferris or Iris, so don’t get any ideas. An impersonal note included by the shopkeeper is fine, but nothing more. You’re excused.”

“Yes, my lord.”

\---

Croseli did a good job. The cookies were high-class and well-decorated, and the wrapping was simple but tasteful. Lucile took them, then returned to the castle to place them on Miran’s desk.

He was out now. Lucile had expected that. He was usually out bothering Sion about something or other at this time of day. A quick check confirmed it. He was trying to get Sion to have heirs again. It was often a funny conversation to listen to, so Lucile returned to the throne room to hear the last end of it once he set the cookies down.

“—Are you truly alright with the status quo, Your Majesty? All of your work will be nothing if you died now. The country would be in shambles, though of course all of this could be prevented if only—”

“ _Enough_ , Froaude. My answer hasn’t changed since you last bothered me about this three days ago. You’re dismissed.”

Miran Froaude bowed politely, not bothered in the slightest by his rude dismissal. “It is getting late. Perhaps you should rest…? You seem a bit tired… and I do believe you would work best after a night’s rest.”

Sion sighed and massaged his temples. “No, I still have some work to do…”

“…I see.”

“I need to work on it now.”

“Then I will take my leave,” Miran said, bowed once more, and left. Lucile blinked as he moved to the other side of the wall, where Miran had left to. He didn’t take any time to wait around, and immediately set out to the office Sion had granted him on the castle grounds. When he arrived, he pulled a key from his pocket to unlock it.

When he did, Miran paused for a moment. His eyes darted around the room, then he tilted his head in confusion.

“…How…? No… _why_?” 

Miran glanced around. No matter how much he looked, he wouldn’t see Lucile. Couldn’t see him. So he went inside without knowing that he wasn’t alone and locked the door behind himself.

Miran ignored the cookies at first, instead going straight for his paperwork. He observed them meticulously, searching for any sign at all that they might have been tampered with. Instead of looking reassured when he looked and looked and was unable to find anything wrong, he looked uneasy.

“…Poison, then?”

Lucile bit back a laugh. But it seemed like Miran heard something of it, as he whipped his head around. The motion messed his hair up just so. His eyes moved around where Lucile stood, but just as expected, he couldn’t see anything. Miran sighed softly.

“Perhaps I am the one who should sleep…”

Miran picked the small bag of cookies up, then opened the note fastened to the tie. Lucile moved to behind him to read it.

 _Happy Torti Nah!_

“……”

It was awfully plain. But that was to be expected. Croseli wouldn’t have gotten anything that implied anything more than that today was a holiday without knowing why Lucile needed them.

“…If this were really for the holiday, they would have simply given it to me,” Miran mumbled to himself. It was too big to pocket, so he was stuck carrying it himself if he wanted to examine it in more detail somewhere else. Apparently that was exactly what he intended on doing, as he took it and left. He locked the door behind himself again despite the break-in… and headed towards the gardens. Lucile followed.

The gardens weren’t far, but they were a bit… not crowded, per say, though there were certainly a few slackers out skipping work and eating cookies. The usual, he’d say. The blond kid who had a different woman here every week had a different woman today, too. Miran didn’t pay him anything more than a disappointed, but not surprised look. 

It wasn’t long before Miran found his objective: the redhead. Claugh Klom.

Claugh grimaced before Miran could say anything. “The hell are you carryin’ those cookies around for? Don’t tell me—”

“No, no. Really. Cookies would be wasted on one as dim as you,” Miran said quickly. “Rather, I was curious if you might have received the same kind?”

Claugh raised an eyebrow and picked the bag out of Miran’s hands. “No, why? They look pretty fancy. Probably some noble girl. Am I right?”

“I wouldn’t know. I found them inside of my locked office.”

“Weird. Guess she’s shy. Can’t believe a girl would ask _you_ of all people out, though.”

“…Really, could you be any more dim? Do you truly believe some noblewoman would sneak into a room with a magic lock containing classified documents only to leave cookies?”

“Uhh… maaaybe?”

“Hah. I don’t know that I feel safe knowing that the country depends on you in any way, shape, or form…”

“Aah? Say that again and see what happens!”

Miran took the cookies back. “If you didn’t receive any, though… it does make me wonder. A personal grudge, perhaps…”

“It’s cookies, not poison,” Claugh said and scoffed.

“It hasn’t occurred to you that the cookies might be poisoned?”

Claugh shrugged. “I think Eslina’s over with it. She’s been hanging out with Noa all day.”

Miran’s eye twitched. “I didn’t think it was her again. I don’t expect that she has the skills required to have placed it.”

“Guess it’s someone just as sneaky as you are then,” Claugh said and laughed. “I bet it’s not poisoned. Even if it is, you can probably afford whatever antidote you need anyway. Might as well eat ‘em.”

“…Thank you for your input,” Miran said with the least sincere tone imaginable. “I will be on my way now. Unlike you, I have work to do…”

“Uh, right. Enjoy your cookies, I guess? If you stop being a pussy about them enough to actually try, I mean.”

“And you enjoy yours… goodbye,” Miran said, somewhat more sincerely, and bowed then left.

Miran returned to his office. He opened the door slowly, suspiciously, then entered when he didn’t sense anything inside. He set the cookies aside, then looked through his papers again. When he was done with that, he looked through the cabinets, then his desk drawers. They each had additional magic locks that would have exploded if they were tampered with, as did many of the cabinets and drawers within the castle walls. So he didn’t look all too surprised when everything inside of them was exactly the same as he left it.

“…Perhaps he was right,” Miran said to himself. He glanced at the cookies once more and gulped.

Was he hungry? He normally had dinner at around this time, come to think of it. He probably did want something to eat, and Claugh had just encouraged him to eat them. He removed two vials from a small drawer in his desk that Lucile recognized as antidotes - Sion kept the same ones handy for when he took meals. 

Then Miran removed the ribbon on the bag of cookies. He held it up for just a moment, admiring the deep blues interlacing with gold. It was an attractive pattern, and Miran seemed to think so too. Croseli had done very well indeed.

Miran set the ribbon aside, then opened the bag wide to better grab a cookie. He did so delicately, careful to not get crumbs on his long nails. It was always fun watching him do things like eat and write - his nails required him to use his hands in odd ways, but he never seemed bothered by it in the slightest. It was just second nature to him. Though he did sometimes break them fighting, and when he did he altered his posture just so in the following days to hide the flaw whether anyone else was around or not. Today his nails were perfect, though. Perfect nails with perfectly made cookies.

He took a small bite.

“…Mm. It’s quite good…”

Lucile smiled. It felt… odd. Similar to how it felt watching Ferris and Iris exchange cookies, but ever so slightly different. Because Lucile was the reason that Miran was eating these now.

They’d never spoken before, so there was no way Miran would ever know who had placed the cookies in here. But that was for the best. They’d taste sweeter from a secret admirer that he could imagine however he liked.

In the end, Miran ruined his dinner just like Ferris did eating Iris’ dango-shaped cookies. Maybe that was fine every once and awhile.

\---

A month later, Miran set return cookies on his desk. Lucile recognized them as the same ones that Croseli had bought for Lucile to give away. So he did his research. As expected.

Poison meant nothing to him, and he didn’t think Miran would try anyway. Not after eating the cookies without any ill effect. Lucile fully intended on eating them.

And then Miran sat and waited. He stayed for as long as he could. But he was anxious to do work before long, and ended up leaving to run an errand. He locked the door behind himself just as he’d done for Torti Nah. The lock meant nothing. Lucile was already inside, after all. He sat in Miran’s chair and checked the message. It was the same as the one his own cookies had. He then removed the pretty ribbon tying the cookies. There wasn’t a window, but if one could see the sun in here, Lucile was sure it would have reflected beautifully off of the gold detail. He set it aside just as Miran had, then reached in to try a cookie.

Lucile didn’t really eat. Not like a human would, anyway. It had been a long, long time since he’d had anything that could be considered real food.

“…Mm. Too sweet.”

Still, it was the thought. Even if Miran had done it more as a science experiment than anything. Lucile took the cookies and ribbon, then waited.

Miran soon returned.

He opened the door quickly this time. His eyes only slightly widened when he saw that the cookies were gone.

“…I see. Perhaps it is as the marshal suspected. Someone in the military, then…”

Lucile just smiled at Miran’s incorrect conclusion. Miran looked pleased too. Maybe he was feeling exactly what Lucile had when he gave his cookies - an odd sort of appreciation. Because as odd as their places in the world were, they were still here now. Capable of doing something as pointless as exchanging cookies, even.

He looked forward to what Miran would do next to try to solve the mystery. Cookies again, or even a card to open up a channel for communication? Lucile could see why Ferris and Iris did this every year. It was pretty fun.


End file.
